He didn’t have to do it. In fact, he probably shouldn’t have. He should have coerced the scout to do his job. Instead, my father took the lead through the suspicious pass during a reconnaissance patrol and gave his limbs to the jungle of Southeast Asia.
My maternal grandfather was too young to serve. That didn’t stop him, however. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, he enlisted under a phony birth date and would eventually participate in the Battle of the Bulge. I like to think that Grandpa regaled his German counterparts with stories for hours on end to coax their eventual surrender.
My paternal grandfather gave his country two years of his life in a German prisoner of war camp. In reality, he gave far more. The untold stress of the experience would eventually shave years off of his life. One of the great laments of my own existence is not having any recollection of Grandpa Slaybaugh.
Strong men with strong partners. That is who I thank specifically on this day of remembrance and observance.
All who have donned the uniform to protect our way of life and keep safe those who cannot do so themselves. That is who I thank broadly.
Shake a veteran’s hand today. Your respect is free, their sacrifice is not.
*** As some know, my father is an inactive member of Active Rain. I would be indebted to all who would be kind enough to visit his blog and wish him well today.
http://activerain.com/blogs/houseseller
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It just seems that a thank you is not enough....but it is what I have to give. So THANK YOU to all the veterans who have sacrificed so much for me.